The Eternal Tryst
by Atsumori The Manic
Summary: A Vampire struggles, with the help of a young girl, to overcome majority of humankind who would persecute him for what he is.    Angst, Romance, Possible Lemon along the way. Extreme Violence.


They were behind him. They were at his flanks. They were all around. Everywhere but ahead. He could survive one, five, ten, one hundred, five hundred. But there were thousands. Not here, not now. But soon. To lower his guard in such a world... Would he die for it? His carelessness would cost him his life... His relentless, eternal life.

No. He would not die. But even as he told himself this, he felt darkness eating away at the corners of his vision. Was it for the best that he give in? What had he to show for living so long but his memories? It was not his choice to become what he was, but there was nothing to change, and everyone he had known and loved had faded away. Everyone he met had succumbed to the abyss of time, and he stayed, frozen in the flow. Until now.

With stuttering breaths, he pulled himself further through the forest, his cloak dragging behind him. He felt the weight of his own blood on his clothing, pulling him closer and closer to the cold earth. At the end of the beaten dirt path he walked upon, he saw a gleaming light. The only place he could ever call home. The only place he was safe from the fear the world would use to eventually bring about his end. Focusing past the blurring edges of his sight, he saw he was still a ways away from his ancestral abode. Half an hour's distance at his pace. He never even felt his legs give way, only wondering why he was suddenly staring at the light of the stars interlaced with the dead branches above. Giving a sick mixture of a cough and a blood-ridden gurgle, his vision began to lose color. Everything was in monochromes. Even the hooded figure who appeared in the corner of his periphery.

Wait... Hooded figure...

He turned his head as best he could manage, to see the figure had pulled down their hood. Above him stood a beautiful woman, with cream-colored hair flowing over her shoulders, tied into two small braids near her temples, which were tucked behind her ears. But what struck him the most were her eyes... A shocking crystalline-blue... Almost like...

It hit him. With what little strength he had, he managed to mouth...

"Y... You..."

Suddenly he was in the world of five years ago.

_The tall, cloaked man made his way down to the market of the small town of Dragomiresti. Making sure to keep his hood pulled down over his face, he strode through the town square, up to the Ink-maker's stall._

"_Five obsidian inkwells and thirty Snowy-Owl feathers, please."_

_The ink-maker, a round, stout little man, was surprised by the haunting, melodic voice drifting from under the hood, but hid it well and went to gather the supplies requested. As he stood waiting, he heard a commotion in the alley between the structure the stall was step up in front of and the building to the left of it. Stepping to the side slightly, he looked down the alleyway to see a young girl backed against the wall of the left building, surrounded by three men, and a dark-haired woman. The younger girl had a small boy in her arms, as if protecting him from them. The woman raised a finger, and the men each drew what appeared to be a Cross, about the size of the handle of a broadsword, wrapped in leather, with a metal spike on each point. His eyes widened. Omnian Purifiers. These children were going to be killed. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he lunged down the small alley, watching the three men extend the bottom spike of the weapon outwards, revealing a small set of runes on the support. As they spoke them aloud in quiet monotones, the weapons began to glow with a holy light. Just as the first man began to raise the cross, he jumped at him, delivering a swift, brutal punch into the side of his head that sent him flying into one of his acquaintances, causing them to both tumble a good ways down the alley. The third had turned to him and was readying his Purifier, chanting in a loud, but completely flat voice, while the woman was hurriedly flipping through a small book. Within a split second, he had jammed his knee into the man's gut, causing him to relinquish his grip on the Purifier, which was snatched from the air. Sweeping the last adversary's legs from beneath him, he jammed the longest end of the weapon into his stomach, the spike easily penetrating his flesh. Turning to the woman, who was still scanning the book for something, he grabbed her by the throat, giving two jabs into her stomach before wrenching the book from her hand and dropping her. After he had checked the four, and incapacitated those who were thinking about taking a second wind, he walked over to the little girl and her companion. Both were shivering profusely, and the girl gave him a look that was half-way between thankful and apprehensive. He knelt down, locking his eyes with her._

_ "Do you know why they were after you?"_

_She hesitantly shook her head. This brought forth a more curious question._

"_...They're called Order of Omnia. They hunt demons and unholy manifestations. Why would they be after you?"_

_She shook her head again, and he sighed, taking a moment to examine her. She looked to be about 16. A strikingly pretty young girl with alabaster skin and matted, dirty locks falling over her face. All of her features were tame in comparison with her eyes, which were a shocking bright-blue. She looked as though she lived in poverty. Standing, he spoke once more._

"_Would you like to come with me? I can keep you safe from them."_

_She gave him a fearful, questioning glance, to which he responded by leaning in close to her, his eyes once again locked with hers._

"_I have had dealings with them in the past."_

_It was then she noticed. His eyes. They were a deep purple color, glowing slightly. She stepped to the side, and began walking away from him, facing him all the while, dragging the little boy with her. As soon as she reached the end of the alleyway, she ran._

There she stood, as if to repay her debt. As his eyes drifted shut, he felt two slight, but strong arms lift him from the ground, and despite his mortal situation, he felt curiosity tugging at what was left of his conscious thought. Maybe after all this time, she'd be able answer his questions.

He awoke with a start, sitting up, then groaning in pain and falling back onto the bed. His bed. He turned his head and saw that he was in his bedroom of his own home. Immediately jolting up again while ignoring the pain, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, surprised to find himself able to balance himself on his own two feet for all the dizziness flowing through his mind. Looking down at his torso, he saw an immense amount of bandages covering his chest. If she had brought him here... She must know quite a bit about him. Or she had just made the connection that, since this was the direction he was going, this must be his home.

Deciding to test out his movement, he walked slowly to the dresser leaning against the wall. He felt rather pleased when he could walk with little issue. No overexertion and things would be okay, for now. Glancing at the mirror above the dresser, he studied his reflection. Abnormally tall, topping off at 6'8'', with extremely pale skin and a toned physique. His hair had the texture of silk and the color of dull silver, and fell about his shoulders in waves. His eyes were rather darkened and his countenance was gaunt, but only slightly more than usual. A fatal heart wound would do that to a man, he mused. But that was incorrect. A fatal heart wound would kill a man. It was a major inconvenience to him.

He heard the door to the room creak, and he looked over to find that the girl had come in carrying a light meal. Apparently, she had helped herself to the culinary installment of his manor as well. When she saw him not only awake, but walking around, her brow furrowed, and she stomped over to him, wearing an extremely intimidating expression despite a considerable height difference.

"No. No, no, no. Go lay back down. I don't know much about your physiology, but you were stabbed in the heart. You should not be up and walking around. You need to wait until you're sufficiently h-"

He halted her with a finger.

"Silence. I have a question or two for you."

Grumbling, she set the bowl down, staring up at him.

"What do you want to know?"

"Firstly, why were you out there? And why did you help me?"

At this, a guilty look spread across her face. With reluctant movements, she pulled a small tome out of the pack slung over her shoulder. Flipping open to a specific page, she began to read aloud.

"Mateius 'Thanatos' Vadimirescu. Aged unknown, believed to be over 300 years old. A member of the Strigoi race—You're classified as such because you're part vampire, and part unknown. You have a risk rating of S and are not to be approached without proper reinforcements."

His eyes narrowed.

"Who are you? Where did you get that book?"

Backing away as if to shield herself from his next action, she spoke quietly.

"U-um... I'm... Eikaterina Istok... I'm with the Order...

His voice turned to ice.

"...You were a part of the Purification group that assaulted me."

Her stutter grew worse as she tried to explain.

"W-well... Yes... B-but I... I only joined to find you..."

He blinked. "What?"

"I... I remember that day vividly... They were going to kill us. But you saved us... Me."

He sat back onto his bed, questions reeling through his mind.

"What happened to the boy? If they let you join the Order, you're not anything supernatural. Were they after him?"

She glanced down.

"Yes. HI didn't know it at the time, but he was actually a Nix, taking the form of a little boy. I found him about a month before the incident. They eventually killed him. I escaped, and tried my best to lay low until I was forgotten. Then, I made a request to join the sector of the Order that deals with Vampires and their Subspecies."

At this, Thanatos' gave an indignant growl.

"Subspecies is an incorrect word. Variations is more suitable."

She looked off to the side, huffing a bit.  
>"Just be thankful I brought you here.<p>

At that moment, alarms went off in his head. He jumped from the bed and grabbed her by the collar, his eyes blazing with intensity.

"How did you get in here? I have a Spiritual Ward around this property PREVENTING members of the Order from getting in."

She kept her gaze from his, though she couldn't resist a small smirk.

"I'm not just a medical expert; Barrier removal is also my job within my team."

A vein pulsed in his forehead. If she could get in, they probably could too. He surreptitiously loosened the bandages around his chest a little.

"...Medical expert? How much do you know about Vampire anatomy?"

"Oh, I'm familiar with how a vampiric body works. I just wasn't sure how the... Eh... Other part of your heritage affected your healing process."

He sighed. He didn't know himself. His father had been the vampire to own this estate, while his mother was an Archdemon-Rank Psychopomp, known around the world as Angels of Death, Reapers and such. Fitting that the Order would christen him Thanatos, the Greek God of Death. He decided he rather liked the title. With this girl by his side, maybe he stood a chance at defying them. At the moment, he was unsure of her true allegiances. She had saved his life, true, but she was still a member of the organization whose duty it was to wipe creatures such as he off the face of the earth. Could she be trusted?

He was shaken from his thoughts by a loud crash from the main hall. Looks like he'd find out.


End file.
